you've got something everybody wants
by seemslikeaporno
Summary: He feels strangely sobered despite all he's had to drink, and although his mind is fuzzed at the edges, there are visions in his head that are sharp, like the look in Jade's eye, the color of her lips. He remembers her so vividly that he's having trouble believing he was drunk at all. / RobbieJade.


**you've got something everybody wants**

Notes: A gift for Anysa. Excuse any typos and/or bad jokes (although I don't think I have any obviously terrible jokes in this one...), and just ignore the fact that Jade is somewhat out-of-character. Hope you like it!

Warnings: Sexual Content (fingering, handjobs, penetrative sex), stripping, mild dirty talk.

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_i'll be taking the hearts that you're breaking  
and putting them in a jar,  
so when you're sixty or old and you're dizzy,  
they'll tell you who you are_

"you've got something" by the jungle giants

.

.

Robbie really, really doesn't want to go. It isn't that he's worried about what that means for him as a decent human being, or what implications it has on his (nonexistent) sex life. He doesn't _care_ about any of that. Really, he doesn't. He just - doesn't want to go out without telling his roommate, because Andre will surely worry. And he doesn't want to leave without feeding his goldfish. And he doesn't want to text Andre to tell him about both of these things because, obviously, that would be rude.

"Shut up, Rob," Beck says, when Robbie tells him of all of the problems that get in the way of them going out tonight. Robbie is already sitting in the passenger seat of Beck's car, but they haven't left the parking lot. He still has a chance. "Shut _up_, Rob," Beck says again, this time with more authority. Robbie huffs, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child and sinking further down in his seat.

"I don't know _why_ we're doing this, Beck," Robbie whines, keeping his eyes trained on the road that stretches out in front of them when Beck turns out of the college, "It's not like I asked you to." Robbie tends to think that anything Beck does for him is done out of some righteous form of pity. They've been best friends since they were twelve and Robbie is ninety percent sure that Beck could've dropped him at any point since and one hundred percent sure that he hasn't only because he feels bad for him. It is not a very good friendship for Robbie's self-esteem, but it's the only one he's got, so he deals the same way Beck does: by biting his tongue.

"I'm tired of seeing you mope," Beck tells him, flicking on his blinker, "You've been like this since - y'know, since Cat dumped you." Beck goes a bit quiet towards the end of his sentence, knowing that it's still somewhat of a touchy subject.

"Well, that's not _my_ fault," Robbie says bitterly, lying his forehead on the passenger window. "I loved her," he reminds Beck softly, closing his eyes and exhaling a deep breath, "I thought she loved me, too, but. You know. It was too good to be true."

Beck groans from the driver's side. "See? This is what I'm tired of. It's been three months, Robbie. _Three months_. It's time to pick yourself up and move on, don't you think?" Beck says encouragingly, gaze flickering to Robbie and then back to the road. "You don't want to be this miserable forever, right?" Beck waits expectantly for Robbie to nod, which he does. "Yeah, no, me neither. So this is good for you."

"How is going to a _strip club _good for me?" Robbie asks wryly, "You don't _honestly_ expect me to find a nice girl to take home and introduce to mom at Christmastime, do you? This is _stupid_, Beck."

"I don't _expect_ anything, Rob," Beck says, exasperated, "I'm just trying to get you to loosen up. Have a nice night and whatnot. I know you haven't even _looked_ at a girl since Cat, and that has _got_ to change, man."

"Why are you always trying to 'change' me?" Robbie mutters, downtrodden. He stares at the floor mat. "Why can't you just - accept that I'm not ready for all this? I don't - I'm not _like_ you, Beck, I can't just hop from one girl to the next and not worry about the consequences."

"There are no _consequences_ for moving on, Robbie," Beck sighs, running a frustrated hand through his hair, "And the sooner you realize that, the better your life is going to be. Just trust me on this one, alright?" Beck hesitates, then haltingly adds, "I'm not trying to change you because I don't like who you are. I'm worried about you, alright? You're my best friend and I want you to be okay."

Robbie lifts his gaze to Beck's and then relents with a deep sigh. "Okay," Robbie says simply.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Robbie shakes his head and gives his friend a small smile. "But if this turns out badly - which it will - you owe me."

Beck laughs. "Okay."

.

.

Robbie hates large crowds and cramped spaces and the smell of cigarette smoke. He hates drinking and loud music and, most of all, he hates Beck Oliver for dragging him here in the first place.

"I hate you," Robbie hisses once they step into a seedy-looking club a good twenty minutes away from campus, "God, I hate you so much. You could get an award for how much I hate you."

"Shut up, Rob," Beck says for at least the twentieth time tonight, hooking his fingers around Robbie's forearm and leading him towards a table at the very front of the stage, where a metal pole is bolted from the ground to the ceiling. Robbie eyes it warily, dropping into the chair Beck pulls out for him with a huff. Beck watches him from the other side of their table, rolling his eyes fondly and huffing a laugh, "Rob, seriously. Try to relax, okay? Just - enjoy yourself."

A scantily clad waitress approaches the table and asks what they want to drink; Beck tells her they're underage, but the woman merely winks, asking the same question once more. Beck grins an orders two beers for himself and for Robbie, unabashedly ogling her backside as she heads to the bar.

"I'm glad _you're_ enjoying yourself," Robbie says petulantly, dropping his elbows onto the table and resting his face on his palms. Beck shoots him a sly look, brow cocked. Robbie sucks his lower lip into his mouth, fighting a smile, and shakes his head. "You're such a - you're. Stop it," Robbie says, laughing as Beck suggestively waggles his eyebrows, "Beck, seriously, you're a six-year-old."

Beck grins at him, all teeth. "Loosen up," he says as the waitress returns and sets their drinks on the table in front of them. Beck thanks her and she cheekily blows him a kiss before she leaves. Beck lifts his glass and holds it out towards Robbie, gaze flickering from Robbie's cup to him before Robbie relents, grabbing it and clinking it against Beck's glass in a toast.

"To strippers," Beck says laughingly, watching Robbie's face go red.

"Not to strippers," Robbie splutters, "To - to - "

"You," Beck rectifies, and drinks before Robbie can tell him to change it. Robbie stares at him for a long moment, then follows suit with a resigned sigh.

.

.

Robbie is feeling good. His brain is fuzzy and his cheeks are flushed and his stomach is tingly, swimming with minnows. Beck is slurring at the girls on stage, cheering when a piece of clothing slips off of their bodies, down their thighs, and the music is loud and familiar, a bass pounding in Robbie's ears, and Robbie is absurdly - _happy_, and he can't explain why. He throws back a shot of something and lets his gaze flicker back towards the stage, where a pretty brunette with a slender waist and tanned skin is hooking her fingers under the purple straps of her bra. She catches Robbie's eye, then Beck's, who she winks at before pushing the straps down her shoulders, little indentions in her skin from where it lay before. Beck cheers for her, lifting his glass, his drink sloshing over the sides.

It's nice, Robbie supposes, to let loose, to watch girls take off their clothes and throw a dollar or two on stage just because. It's nice and it's easy and Robbie feels free, for once, feels content and surprisingly settled, as though this was all he needed, to get buzzed with his best friend and have girls that don't care about him pretend to.

It's nice, but it's not - it's not exactly magnificent. It's exciting and different and something Robbie has never done before, but it's also degrading and weird and if Robbie puts too much thought into it, he feels a little sick. He keeps comparing the girls to Cat, keeps thinking that Cat has prettier hair or shinier lips or perkier breasts, and he can't seem to get himself to stop, to just _forget_, because Cat meant everything to him and she _still_ does, and these girls aren't her and Robbie feels - weird.

"I want to go," Robbie says to Beck over the pounding music, watching as his best friend's brows furrow over his eyes. He points to his ear, mouths the word, '_what_?' and Robbie repeats himself, louder this time, voice wavering over the bass, "I want to go!"

Beck rolls his eyes, shaking his head, and says, "Loosen up!"

Robbie has _been_ loosening up. He's tired. He wants to go home and he wants to call Cat and wants to cry and yell and apologize until she takes him back. He's - more than a little buzzed, now, knows by the way his mind is running a mile a minute, knows by the way his sadness has suddenly gotten the best of him. Robbie is an emotional drunk, a depressed drunk, one who feels good until he hits his limit.

He's hit it. He wants to go home, now.

Beck turns back to the stage, and Robbie abruptly stands up, wobbling a bit as he weaves his way through the cluster of tables, searching for the exit, for a way out. He thinks he hears Beck call for him, but Robbie doesn't stop, just keeps walking until he finds a door, and then pushes through it without preamble, without thinking of what might be on the other side.

He isn't outside. The room is illy lit by reddish lamplight, furnished with a black leather couch and a minibar. In front of the couch is a miniature stage that is built precisely like the one in the club, with a thrust and a pole. Robbie blinks a few times, about to turn around and walk out, when a sultry voice comes from a shadowed corner.

"Are you here for the private show?" It asks, and Robbie's mind goes blank. He glances around until he pinpoints the person speaking, a woman dressed in black lingerie that matches her hair. She's curvier than the other girls, her breasts full and rounded, spilling out of her lacy bra. Her eyes are big and blue, lashes coated with mascara, and her lips are a shocking red, bright against her milky skin.

She's the most beautiful girl Robbie thinks he's ever seen.

"I - I - " Robbie stammers, blinking quickly to clear his head. He's gone stupid. He can't even find his voice, let alone rearrange his thoughts. "Wow," he says, because it's the only word he can grasp.

The woman smirks, eyelids drooping as she takes a few slow steps forward, hips swinging to a beat only she can hear. She stops in front of him, runs her manicured fingernails down his torso, stopping just above his bellybutton, before dragging it back up, leaving goosebumps on Robbie's skin where she's touched. She stops at Robbie's bottom lip, pressing into it slightly before drawing back, meeting his gaze.

"Why don't you have a seat and enjoy the show?" She says. Her voice his dark, thick like cigarette smoke, addictive. Robbie's stomach jumps, heat pooling underneath his paper skin, and he swears he's going to ignite if he doesn't - if she doesn't -

"I'm - I'm not," Robbie splutters, "This isn't, I need to - "

He's shushed by her pressing her palm over his mouth. She uses it as leverage to push him backwards, towards the couch, and he stumbles onto it, backside pressed against the cushions.

"What's your name?" She asks, pulling her hand back and walking to the stage, where she lifts a long leg and hoists herself up, heels clacking on the floor.

"I don't remember," Robbie says dumbly, and then catches himself, shaking his head quickly, "Robbie. Fuck, I'm Robbie."

She laughs at that, a soft sound leaving her lips, and then flicks a switch that turns on the lights and another to start a slower song, one that has a filthy beat that Robbie can already imagine her swinging her hips to. "I'm Jade," she tells him lowly, coming forward and wrapping her fingers around the pole in the front of the stage, pulling herself towards it until it's bracketed between her thighs, "And I think you're going to enjoy yourself."

She winks at him, smokey eyeshadow reflecting sparkles under the stage lights, and then she moves her hips and Robbie actually thinks he's going to die. The beat of the music is slow, dirty, and she grinds against the pole before hooking her leg around it and sliding down, pressing her body against it and closing her eyes.

Robbie watches her with his mouth open, alcohol-heavy brain clouding up further. The music seems to mute itself, and he's left watching her hands slide down her own body, touching, feeling, pressing indentions into her thighs. She slips her fingers underneath the wire of her bra, kneading her own breasts, and Robbie feels his mouth go dry, his dick giving an interested twitch in his jeans.

He thinks, belatedly, that this is _insane_, that he _must_ be dreaming. He pinches the inside of his arm and winces at the pain but the visual doesn't go away; the girl - Jade - is still there, rolling her hips to the beat of the music in a way that is probably borderline _illegal_, making Robbie forget that other things or people or places exist in the world. The only thing that matters is here and now, and Robbie has never been _that_ _person_, someone who lives in the moment and doesn't worry about the future. For the first time, Robbie doesn't care about anything else, doesn't care that Beck is probably looking for him, doesn't care that Andre has to feed his fish, doesn't care about - about -

"Fuck," he breathes as Jade unclasps her bra and lets it crumple to the floor. She catches his gaze and winks at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining, and lifts her arms above her head, putting herself on full display. She's got a beautiful body, her breasts perfectly round and her nipples perked. Robbie can see the thin sheet of sweat on her skin, glistening under the lights and making her shine. She's got a freckle just above the jut of her hipbone, and Robbie trains his gaze on it for a long moment, wanting to press his finger there until she bruises. He swallows thickly, gaze flickering to her face and then back down, unable to look away even as the song draws to an end and fades out, leaving them in silence, dense with something Robbie can't place.

"How was that?" She asks, her chest visibly rising and falling with her heavy breaths, her lips quirked into a self-satisfied smirk.

Robbie blinks rapidly, shaking his curls, and then says, hoarsely, "Good. Yeah, really good," without holding her gaze. Her laugh is rich, and he listens to the sound her heels make when she clacks across the stage to turn out the spotlight. The room goes dim again, bringing the warmth back into the space, and before Robbie can even process what's happening she's kneeling in front of him, pressing her fingers into his knees.

Robbie jolts, overcome with nerves, and stares at her for a moment - her face, nowhere else - trying to read her expression.

"W-What are you doing?" He breathes, cheeks so hot that his glasses are fogging up. She smiles at him, lifting one hand from his leg and taking the glasses off of his face, setting them on the arm of the couch.

"Whatever you want me to do," she says. Her voice is lower, now, huskier, and despite this it still takes Robbie's foggy mind a beat to process what she means.

"I - I don't," Robbie manages, making a noise in the back of his throat as her hands creep up his thighs, "I didn't think that this was that kind of club," he gets out. She hesitates in her movements, lifting her gaze to meet his, her eyelashes fanned over her cheeks. Fuck him if she isn't the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on.

Jade thinks for a moment, running her tongue along the fronts of her teeth, before she gives him a very sly look. "You're not my appointment," she says, but instead of annoyed or confused she sounds impressed, interested.

"I - I'm sorry," Robbie apologizes, "I was trying to leave. I went through the wrong door."

"You little sneak," she says, delighted. Robbie furrows his brow in confusion, but even through his blurred vision he can tell she's smiling, full lips stretched over her white teeth, "I like that."

Robbie's mouth drops open, slightly. "You - what?"

"Pretty naughty of you," Jade says, eyes lidded. He swears her voice goes a little lower as she presses forward, sidling between his legs to murmur in his ear, "I like naughty."

"I like you," Robbie blurts without thinking, face flushing with the admission. "I - I mean."

"I like you, too, Robbie," she responds without missing a beat, and he can hear rather than see her grin. She presses a small kiss to the shell of his ear and he jolts, shuddering under her breath. She continues kissing her way down his jaw, and Robbie's sure that she's leaving red prints behind from her lipstick, but he can't bring himself to care.

She pulls back a moment, gaze flickering over his reddened face, and then leans forward to brush her lips over his, barely there but electric all the same, a ghost of warmth passing through Robbie's entire body. His eyes flutter as she presses harder, lips soft and tasting of strawberries, and he unsurely cups a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her to him, kissing back with equal pressure, the tips of his fingers pressing into her scalp.

She makes a noise in the back of her throat, breaking their kiss and hoisting herself onto his lap, slotting their hips together. She shudders at the feeling of his erection straining in his trousers, now pressed against her thigh, and she quickly reaches down to pop the button of his jeans to relieve the pressure. She doesn't make a move to dip her hand inside of his briefs, instead allowing her fingers to trail towards the left where he's tucked and squeeze the outline of his dick through the fabric, causing Robbie to whimper into her mouth.

She takes the opportunity to slip her tongue between his lips, pressing along the roof of his mouth and the backs of his teeth, and Robbie's other hand travels up and down her naked torso, fingertips skirting over her skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He's tentative when he reaches her breasts, ghosting just underneath them instead of actually touching them, but Jade reaches for his wrist and guides his hand, squeezing to get him to do what she wants.

Robbie thumbs over her nipple and she hisses, dropping her hand to his shoulder, where her fingernails dig into the fabric of his teeshirt. She fumbles with it for a moment, then pulls back, murmurs, "Take this off," in a whisper, and Robbie can't even consider doing anything but complying, hooking his fingers under the hem and tugging it over his head, dropping it at the side of the couch. Her eyes rake over his body and Robbie is just drunk enough not to feel self-conscious, even though he knows he's willowy and pale and has the waist of a girl.

Jade ducks down to trail hot kisses over his pectorals and then tongues her way through the thin hair on his chest to the juncture of his neck, biting down on the tender skin and causing Robbie to cry out in a strange mixture of shock and desire. He digs his fingers into her hips, thumbing the elastic of her panties and itching to push his fingers inside to touch, to feel the pool of heat between her legs.

"You can," she murmurs, rolling her hips in his lap, giggling when a strangled moan tears out of his mouth. Robbie readjusts his hand, dipping two fingers into the silky material and pressing down, pushing between her lips and crooking them just so. She breathes out slowly, pushing herself back so that the position isn't as uncomfortable, and balances herself with her hands on Robbie's knees behind her, canting her hips upwards for him.

Robbie's gaze flickers to her face, where she's watching him with a glazed expression, and realizes how much he wants to make her scream; he pushes his fingers deeper into her, then drags upwards to find the bundle of nerves that'll make her moan. He knows he's found it when her breath noticeably hitches and the muscles in her thighs clench. Robbie circles his fingers around her clit, his cock spurting a spot of pre-come when she begins making these wanton noises and pushing into his fingers, her head thrown back, and withdraws his hand when his muscles start to seize from the uncomfortable way they're positioned.

"Tease," Jade mutters, but inches closer, locking her lips with Robbie's and snaking her tongue into his mouth, rolling her hips over his cock. Robbie whines into her lips, wrapping his hands around her waist and tugging her forward until her chest is pressed tightly against his, breasts squeezed between them.

"God," Robbie says hoarsely as she detaches her lips from his and begins nibbling down his neck, shooting electric sparks up his veins. "You're beautiful, you're so beautiful," he mutters, muscles in his stomach jolting when her fingernails slide over his skin and then dip lower, following the line of his happy trail to the elastic of his briefs, "Please, God, _please_, so beautiful," Robbie says, hardly realizing that he's speaking until she shudders against him, deliciously turned on by his compliments.

Jade spreads her legs until she's got her knees holding her up on the couch, and unzips Robbie's jeans, tugging them down along with his briefs. He lifts his hips from the couch and manages to help shuffle them off, cock springing free and blotting pre-come on his stomach. Jade eyes him hungrily, licking over her palm and wrapping her hand around him, stroking upwards once and circling the head with her thumb.

Robbie makes a low noise, head tipping backwards onto the back of the couch, and he watches her face through heavy lidded eyes, breath hitching all over the place as she strokes up and down a few more times with a slight drag. Robbie likes the burn, actually, likes the feeling of realness and existence.

"Are you up for a fuck?" Jade asks after a moment, slowing her movements over him until her hand isn't applying any sort of stimulation at all, aside from the press of her palm against him, the feeling of her stilled fingers wrapped around him.

"A - fuck?" Robbie says, catching up, "You - you want to -?"

"Yeah," she responds, cutting him off, "Yes, fuck - are you - do you want to fuck me?"

Obviously, the only answer for this is yes, _hell yes_, but Robbie is still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she actually _wants_ him, so he doesn't answer immediately. Jade growls under her breath, pressing open-mouthed kisses over the jut of his collarbones, biting down sharply and earning a breathless groan.

"Yes, holy shit, please - " Robbie manages, just as Jade swings her leg over his thighs and scrambles off of the couch to - "Wait - where are you going?" Robbie asks, pressing a hand to his erection just to feel something.

"Condom," Jade responds, already approaching with one held between her index and middle finger. She situates herself back on his lap and tears the condom wrapper with her teeth, eyes lidded as she rolls it over Robbie's cock. Robbie drags her to him for another kiss before he grips her panties and pulls at them until Jade stands back up and pushes them down her thighs. She's still wearing her heels, making her a few inches taller, but she slides back onto his lap easily, reaching for his cock to guide it in between her legs.

Robbie groans as he slips into easily, her warm walls clenching around him and then relaxing as she sits with a long moan, steadying herself with her hands on his chest. She lets out a harsh breath and then lifts herself, almost all the way off, before she presses back down, the pace excruciatingly slow.

"Thicker than I thought," Jade mutters, causing Robbie to make a choked sound in his throat. She laughs a little breathlessly and picks herself back up, this time sliding down quickly, and then she sets up a rhythm that has them both gasping. Robbie reaches around and grabs her ass for leverage, pushing bruises into her skin as he helps lift her, meeting her in the middle for a sloppy kiss that's more panting into each others' mouths than anything.

"Not - gonna last," Robbie manages, snaking an arm back around to stimulate her clit. She moans against his lips, biting down on the bottom one as she speeds up, rocking forward into his fingers slightly as she goes down, "Jesus, you're so beautiful," he tells her, breathless sounds punched from his gut as she continues, "So gorgeous, I swear, you're the prettiest girl I've ever - _shit_!" He drops his forehead to her shoulder as she clenches around him and cries out, fingernails digging into his chest as she comes.

He keeps pressure on her clit and bounces her once, twice, before he's following with a long moan, spilling into the condom. They take a few moments to catch their breath before he bonelessly pulls out, Jade shifting back onto his thighs with a sated smile.

"That was - you were -" Robbie starts to say, and then can't find the words. Jade shakes her head fondly, pressing her fingers to his lips to shush him.

"That was nice," she says, eyes soft, and Robbie can only nod dumbly in response, too overwhelmed to do much else. "You're probably way more fun than my appointment would've been, anyways," she adds, smirking. Robbie breathes a laugh, pursing his lips against her finger cheekily.

She lifts herself off of him, gathering her lingerie from he floor and tossing Robbie his briefs. The two of them dress in silence, Robbie wincing as he pulls off the condom and ties it off before tossing it in a bin and finding a kleenex to clean himself up. When Robbie finally pulls his teeshirt over his head, fully clothed, he turns back to Jade, who is running her fingers through her mussed hair, smoothing it.

"So," Robbie says slowly, grabbing his glasses from the arm of the couch and slipping them back onto his face, the blurriness disappearing and making everything sharper, more real.

"Robbie," Jade says, and it's - it's a warning. Robbie can tell by the tone of voice. He lets out a disappointed breath and then rights himself, slipping his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders.

"Right. Well, I'll just - it was nice meeting you," Robbie finally settles on, giving her a tight-lipped smile. She returns the gesture, stepping forward to fix a few of his curls. The proximity almost sends his heart into a frenzy again, but then she's a few steps away from him and he settles.

"It was nice meeting you, too," she says. Robbie waves once before walking out.

.

.

"Robbie!" Beck calls once he finds Robbie outside of the club, leaning against the wall and absentmindedly turning his phone over in his hands, "Shit, Robbie, where have you been? I've spent the last twenty minutes looking for you."

Robbie looks at his friend and shrugs noncommittally, unlocking and locking his phone just to give him something to do with his hands. "I just needed some fresh air," he responds after a silence, "Are you ready to go?"

Beck furrows his brow, studying him. "You okay?" He asks after a moment or two has passed.

"Yeah," Robbie replies, "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just tired." Robbie jolts when Beck slings an arm around his shoulder and then settles into it, the touch familiar and comforting. "Are you okay to drive?" Robbie asks.

"Nah," Beck responds, "We'll have to catch a taxi."

"Can you park here overnight?"

"Don't know, don't care. I'm ready to get back." Beck grins at him and Robbie feels his heart unwind, letting go of some of the heaviness weaved into the vessels. "Unless you can drive?"

"Better not," Robbie responds, chuckling. He feels strangely sobered despite all he's had to drink, and although his mind is fuzzed at the edges, there are visions in his head that are sharp, like the look in Jade's eye, the color of her lips. He remembers her so vividly that he's having trouble believing he was drunk at all.

Beck nods and detaches himself from Robbie, stepping up to the curb a few feet away to wave one down. Robbie stays back a moment, unlocking his phone again and staring at the message on the screen, the one that he's been looking at since he got out here.

"Hey," a familiar voice says from close by, causing Robbie to jolt, "Sorry," Jade apologizes, "I didn't mean to scare you." She offers a smile, just the corners up her lips quirked upwards, and Robbie glances from her to Beck, who is so focused on flagging down a taxi that he doesn't even notice that they aren't alone anymore. She's wearing a pair of jeans, now, with a baggy teeshirt for the sake of modesty.

"What are you doing?" He asks dumbly, catching her gaze in confusion.

"I don't know," Jade says with a humorless laugh, scrubbing her fingers through her hair, "Shit, I don't know. I just felt like...I guess I just. I couldn't leave it like that." She gives him a meaningful look, staring at him from under her lashes. Robbie swallows, his mouth having suddenly gone dry. She drops her gaze to the concrete, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and then looks up with him with more determination, "I wanted to give you my number. Maybe - I don't know, go out for coffee sometime. Anything, really."

Robbie stares at her. "Really?" He asks after a hesitation.

"Yeah. Yeah, really." Jade sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and lets it go, "And I'm just warning you, I can be really aggressive, so if you say no you might get punched in the face."

Robbie finally finds it in himself to laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Okay," he says, "Okay, yeah, I'd - I'd like to get coffee or something, sometime."

Jade looks relieved, and gestures for his phone to put her number in.

"Hold on," Robbie says, going to his messages. He clicks on the one Cat sent to him fifteen minutes ago (_I miss you_), takes a breath, and presses delete.

"Okay," he says, handing it over to Jade with a smile, "Go ahead."


End file.
